


Full Moons

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Ficlets, Full Moons, Gen, Hale Family Feels, mentions of character deaths, non-sexual threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12 ficlets based on the full moons of the year. No real plot, but potentially lots of feels.</p><p> </p><p>(pairings, characters, other relevant tags will be added when they pop up.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pink Moon

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, I decided to challenge myself to write short by writing little stories based on the names of the full moons. Each new 'chapter' will be posted on, or around the full moon of that month.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This name [Pink Moon] came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names for this month’s celestial body include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the shad swam upstream to spawn." - [Farmer's Almanac](http://www.farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

Even to Lydia’s human nose the world is starting to smell alive: growing plants, cut grass, and flowers, lots of flowers. She would know considering half of them seem to end up on her windowsill. Daffodils, tulips, dogwood, cherry, apple, and on and on.

She’s not sure if she should find it sweet or annoying; though at the very least her room always smells nice.

The next time she actually _sees_ Peter, at Derek’s apartment in her capacity as one of Scott’s ‘advisors’, she arches an eyebrow. “Is there any particular reason you’re trying to give me pollen allergies?”

Peter laughs, which startles not only her but Scott and Derek as well -the two of them staring at her like she’s grown a second head, which really, way to be subtle. When Peter’s laughter dies there’s a beat of complete silence, though Lydia can hear a faint sound that reminds her of a purring cat -the universe is also not as subtle as it thinks it is, which Scott then breaks with yet another Alpha question; returning her and Peter to their relative privacy.

“Am I not allowed to show my gratitude? You’ve done so much for me recently.”

The first meeting between Malia and Peter went about as well as could be expected, considering the two of them; but now they get along, to use a horribly perfect analogy, like houses on fire. Scott always gets nervous whenever Malia mentions going to visit Peter, worried that something bad is going to happen, but Lydia thinks that it’s doing the two of them good, for different reasons. And she’s apparently right, if the flowers are any indication.

“I just never thought you’d be a flowers man.”

The smile he gives her in response does strange things to her insides. “You have no idea Lydia, you have no idea.”


	2. Flower Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In most areas, flowers are abundant everywhere during this time. Thus, the name of this Moon [Flower Moon]. Other names include the Full Corn Planting Moon, or the Milk Moon. - [Farmer's Almanac](http://www.farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

Armed with clippers and a very large basin full with sugar water Lydia goes outside to gather flowers. This time around she gathers pale colored flowers: the very last snowdrops –she can’t believe they survived to _May_ , flowering plum, wisteria –her hands stutter for a moment because they were Allison’s favorite, magnolias; she keeps picking until something in her finally settles and she feels like she can breath again.

Her basin is full bursting and she finds herself surprised at how much she’s picked. Standing she brushes off her skirt and hands before picking up her basin and slowly carrying it to her car.

Driving just as slow she makes her way to Beacon Hill Cemetery.

When she parks she’s pleased to note she’ll be alone during her sojourn. Toeing off her shoes she sets them in the footwell in the back seat before grabbing the basin and making her way in, enjoying the tickle of grass on her bare feet.

As she walks she doesn’t even need to think about where she needs to go, she’s trod the path to Allison’s grave enough that she could walk it blind.

Once there her hands start working on the same sort of autopilot her feet had, arranging the flowers she takes out carefully in the provided holders.

It’s been eight months, but it still feels like it’s only been days; the wounds of Allison’s passing still raw and bleeding. The tears that start to fall don’t surprise Lydia, but the. . .peaceful hum of the universe does.

When Lydia’s satisfied with her offering, Allison’s grave looks like it’s crying wisteria, her basin’s still mostly full. After a bit of waffling she leaves a single sprig of magnolia on Allison’s mother’s grave, but deliberately avoids Kate’s –the horrid woman doesn’t deserve anything, even if she were still dead.

Now she lets her feet take her where they will, eventually ending up before Erica and Boyd. Here her offering is smaller, she didn’t know either all that well but still wants to remember them; the snowdrops for Boyd and the pink rosebuds for Erica.

Again her feet lead her onwards and she’s only half-surprised when she ends up in front of the Hale crypt. Peering through the gate it's to see there's only one coffin in the actual crypt itself, Just barely she can see the name engraved on the stone: _Brendan Hale_. She walks around the building until she finds a side embedded with plaques. 

Here she fills the little vases next to each placard with abandon: Talia, Moira, and Theodora get inundated with magnolias, lilies, and baby’s breath. White bluebells, iris and orchids for Meredith and Sylvia. Alexander, and Glenn get chrysanthemums and carnations. Laura gets the last lily and some lavender. She pauses for a moment on the spot of a recently removed plaque, Cora who was never dead, before moving on to little Samuel’s who gets the very last of her flowers: lavender, baby’s breath, and daisies.

As she places the last flower a note of sorrow and grief enter her zen-peace; looking up she sees Derek standing on the left, his expression confused and a little wrecked.

It’s clear he has no idea what to say so she takes pity on him and speaks. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He shakes his head and she finally notices the bouquet of flowers in his own hand.

She actually blushes a little, “sorry.” Her hands move to start taking her flowers out.

“No,” Derek looks about as surprised as she feels at his outburst. “You can leave them.” He walks to stand next to her and crouches down to set his flowers at the base of the crypt. As he stands the speaks again. “They would have appreciated the gesture.”

Lydia doesn’t know how to respond to that, but from the fact the universe has gone peaceful again she thinks she doesn’t need too. So she just stands there and mourns with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you on June 15!


	3. Strawberry Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This name [Strawberry Moon] was universal to every Algonquin tribe. However, in Europe they called it the Rose Moon. Also because the relatively short season for harvesting strawberries comes each year during the month of June . . . so the full Moon that occurs during that month was christened for the strawberry!" - [Farmer's Almanac](http://www.farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! Pairings! The threesome's more implied than anything, but I'll tag it anyways (Isaac just needs all the cuddle buddies).

Scott knocks on Mr. Argent’s front door, while Kira tries to hold still, reasonless nerves ricocheting inside her like stray electrons.

It’s apparently their lucky day, what with Isaac being the one who answers the door and all. Without even having to look at each other she and Scott both reach out and snag Isaac’s arms, yanking him out into the hallway. Kira decides they really should be polite and sticks her head in as she grabs the door knob. “Mr. Argent, we’re kidnapping Isaac for the day.” Not waiting for a response she and Scott hustle Isaac down the numerous flights of stairs and into stiles Jeep, commandeered for the day because you couldn’t fit three people on the bike, at least not legally.

At least Isaac looks more bemused than anything else. “Really?”

Kira gives him a beg wet kiss on the cheek. “Yep. We’re all picking out gifts for Malia, and then we’re going to try and have fun.” She gives Scott a small shove when he takes too long in starting the Jeep. “Come on! You said we could go to the farmer’s market.”

Scott tries to look imperious, but fails because he’s a big fat puppy. “Stiles’ Jeep is crazy okay? Even you’d have trouble started it.”

She starts to point out that no, because she’s getting fantastic control of her electricity powers now –machines of the world beware– and could just zap it, but finally the engine turns over and they’re off.

Twisting as far around as she can she grins as Isaac. “So have you thought of what you want to get Malia?”

Isaac shifts in his seat and looks so bashful and uncomfortable that she nearly crawls back there to cuddle with him. “No. I don’t even know what she likes.”

Kira shrugs. “I was just planning on getting her something small, especially considering what Peter’s probably going to get her.” She thinks the way the older wolf acts around Malia is freaking adorable and she can’t wait to see what happens at the other girl’s birthday party.

Even though she can’t really see him she can tell Scott’s frowning. “What’s Peter planning on getting Malia?” He sounds so dubious of the idea that Peter has a heart it’s kind of hilarious.

She shrugs. “I seriously have no idea, but do any of us really want to try and overshadow whatever he does give her? I was just thinking we could all pitch in and get her a jewelry set. . .though I guess she doesn’t have pierced ears. . .hmmmm. . .”

“I'd. . .I'd be okay doing the jewelry set.” Reaching out Kira snags one of Isaac's hands and gives it a squeeze.

Next to her Scott sighs. “Seems I'm outvoted.”

Kira sniggers. “What made you think this was a democracy? Clearly I'm the only person besides Lydia with any taste around here.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark.”

She leans over and gives Scott a kiss on the cheek. “Of course you do sweetie. We love you anyways. And really your poor choices just make you cuter.” She loves this easy ribbing between all of them. Isaac gives a soft laugh.

Before he can come up with a reply the farmer's market comes up. A few minutes later they've parked and she's rocking back and forth on her feet eager to wander around. “Come on Scott! We need you to show us around, oh high and mighty Alpha.”

He rolls his eyes as he finishes locking up the Jeep. With an easy movement he interlaces one of his hands with her's and the other with Isaac's, who smiles bashfully. “We need to go this way.”

With Scott leading them they make their way into the maze of stalls. It's clear Scott has a destination in mind, but she'd not ashamed to admit she gets sidetracked.

Strawberries!” Letting go of Scott's hand she doesn’t even bother resisting the urge to bounce over to the stall displaying her all time favorite fruit.

The man running the stall smiles bemusedly, “we just picked them this morning.”

Just the thought of eating something that fresh makes her mouth water. “May I have a sample?” She had to remind herself to ask, this isn’t the corner market in New York where everyone knew her.

“Go right ahead.”

Eagerly she snags one and bites in, the light sweet taste bursting on her tongue, even more intense than her last memory of fresh strawberries; then again the last time she’d had strawberries she hadn’t exactly been fully aware of being a kitsune. “Oh gods, you guys need to try these.” She turns around and offers the rest of the berry to Scott –even though she considers herself part of his pack stuff like this weirds her out a little.

Scott’s lips twitched in amusement but bites into the pro-offered berry anyways. “That is good,” he tells her when he finishes chewing.

She offered the rest to Isaac who shyly eats the rest. “Yeah, good.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the both of them, such dorks, she digs out her wallet, turns around and smiles at the man. “I’ll take a pint.”

Grabbing her newly purchased pint she extracts a berry with her free hand and uses her nail to scoop out the top before popping the whole berry into her mouth. Her free hand wraps itself around Isaac’s arm as she gave a happy sigh. “I love summer.”


	4. Thunder Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July is normally the month when the new antlers of buck deer push out of their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur. It was also often called the Full Thunder Moon, for the reason that thunderstorms are most frequent during this time. Another name for this month’s Moon was the Full Hay Moon. [Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a little early since tomorrow's (the actual full moon) my birthday and Imma gonna be away!
> 
>  
> 
> . . .also just realized I was apparently going to travel back in time to post this chapter. . .oops!
> 
> Warning for Peter being Peter too.

Malia curls up closer in his lap and lets out an almost inaudible whimper as another roll of thunder cracks above them. Almost absentmindedly Peter runs a hand through her hair, rubbing behind her ear as he turns the page in his book. “It’s alright love,” that word feels strange on his tongue but she loves to hear him say it so he uses it over and over again.

He knows the rest of McCall’s pack disproves of her seeking him out, but he’ll never stop encouraging her. As it stands she can be used against him yes, but he can use her too. He doesn’t even have to do anything, she’s already ‘wrong’ by human standards. By the moon, he doesn’t even have to encourage her, she makes all sorts of connections that he’s sure Stiles would frown upon if he knew about them.

Point in fact: she could have just as easily gone to Stiles or Scott, or any other member of the pack when the storm rolled in, but she came to him. Looking as bedraggled as a wet kitten, she probably would have had Stilinski eating out of her hand if she'd gone to him like that. And he's sure if it had been something else she would have; but somehow she associated comfort from things she couldn't control with him.

So when her. . .father –he'd rip that miserable man to shreds if he could– gets drunk, or crazy again, she comes to him; when she was feeling left out she comes to him –half the time at least apparently the other half goes to dear Miss Martin; when it storms she comes to him.

A flash of lightning occurs right outside the windows, followed by more thunder. He'd be worried about the power if it hadn't gone out alright. LED candles sit on the coffee table, giving enough illumination to see, and read by.

“Peter,” she sounds scared. Part of him wants to laugh at her, the other part wonders what he'd feel like if she called him 'dad'.


	5. Sturgeon Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fishing tribes are given credit for the naming of this Moon [Sturgeon Moon], since sturgeon, a large fish of the Great Lakes and other major bodies of water, were most readily caught during this month. A few tribes knew it as the Full Red Moon because, as the Moon rises, it appears reddish through any sultry haze. It was also called the Green Corn Moon or Grain Moon. -[Farmer's almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late guys, I got caught up in other fics.

Liam gave a whooping howl as he ran down the pier and jumped into the lake, interrupting Malia and Mason's dunk fight and sending a snoozing Scott in his floating recliner closer to Lydia holding court over her music blasting radio on the floating dock. 

Shaking his head Stiles held back his huff of laughter as he wiped the last of the water from his eyes.

This was a well deserved vacation for all of them away from the boiling heat that was currently Beacon Hills –well except for Issac who apparently actually liked it hot and had stuck around, weirdo. Finding out that Derek, well the Hales really, somehow still owned a cabin by lake Shasta had been music to everyone's ears, even if that music has quickly turned to a Disney sing-along when they gotten there and realized what a mess said cabin was. But even the cleaning had been fun –as long as no one mentioned the ceiling fan incident; and now they could kick back and relax for the next week or so.

A faint pop reminded him the barbeque was still open and on. Pulling his legs out of the water Stiles turned around to make sure it wasn't spitting too many sparks. Earlier in the afternoon they'd grilled fish on it and now they were using it to slow cook dinner: delicious, delicious pulled pork; he reached past Derek, who lounged on a cheap plastic chaise chair drinking a beer and generally looking too cool for vacation –asshole, to grab the barbeque lid, putting it on. In the distance he could see Kira hauling the hopefully refilled cooler of drinks back.

Yep, summertime was in full swing and–Stiles crashed into the water, breaking the surface sputtering. “What the hell man?”

Derek stood at the edge of the pier and grinned, which was still weird, down at him. “You looked too introspective.”

“I'll show you introspective.” Stiles growled, even if it didn't make contextual sense, as he reached up and grabbed Derek's ankles, giving the best yank he could and pulling the fully clothed werewolf into the lake with him.

Peals of laughter rung out as Derek surfaced green eyes narrowed. “Stiles.”

With a grin Stiles back paddled. “Derek, you gotta admit that was pretty good.”

All he got in response was a growl and a flash of blue eyes before Derek was swimming towards him.

Uh. . .Stiles started swimming faster. “Help, Scott! I'm gonna get mauled.”

Scott gave a start as he woke up, glancing around dog-like for a few moments, “what?”

“Stiles pulled Derek into the water,” Malia, the great big tattler, answered.

“It was retaliation-defense,” Stiles cried out as Derek caught up to him, wrapping a very indomitable arm around Stiles' waist.

For a second Scott stared at them, then rolled his eyes and settled back into his recliner.

“Traitor! You're a disgrace to alphas everywhere.” Casting about for another avenue of escape, “Malia! Help!” Sure they were exes now, but she wouldn't leave him in the paws of he clearly evil cousin, would she?

Whatever response she might have given got lost on Stiles, what with him being dunked by Derek. Derek released him and Stiles turned as he broke the surface to glare at Derek's placidly floating form. “I hate you.”

Derek didn't even look at him. “No you don't.”

Stiles did the completely mature thing and stuck his tongue out at Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next moon!


	6. Harvest Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This full moon’s name is attributed to Native Americans because it marked when corn was supposed to be harvested. Most often, the September full moon is actually the Harvest Moon, which is the full Moon that occurs closest to the autumn equinox. In two years out of three, the Harvest Moon comes in September, but in some years it occurs in October. At the peak of harvest, farmers can work late into the night by the light of this Moon. Usually the full Moon rises an average of 50 minutes later each night, but for the few nights around the Harvest Moon, the Moon seems to rise at nearly the same time each night: just 25 to 30 minutes later across the U.S., and only 10 to 20 minutes later for much of Canada and Europe. Corn, pumpkins, squash, beans, and wild rice the chief Indian staples are now ready for gathering." - [Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

Lydia’s barely started her cup of coffee when Stiles knocks on her back door –it’s enough to make her wonder if _anyone_ in a pack is capable of using front doors. He jitters past her moments after she opens the door. “Apple harvesting today,” he sing-songs as he grabs a banana from her fruit bowl. She just rolls her eyes and takes the slowest sip she possibly can, knowing it’ll annoy Stiles to no end.

Stiles just huffs at her. “No using playing too-cool-for-school Lydia! I know you’re just as excited as everyone else.” 

She is; before the fire the Hale family cider was more than a little famous around town and to be able to not just drink it but help make it is a little thrilling. “Shut up and let me wake up in peace Stiles.” 

This time he’s the one who rolls his eyes.

-

From the looks of things they’re the last to arrive: Scott and Kira are being taught by Derek how to properly prune –the trees have been growing wild the past eight years and they need some care, while Danny, Isaac, and Mason are up on ladders actually picking, Malia and Liam are running their full baskets over to Peter by the press, but since the actual picking's going slower than the running the two of them looked like they were doing lots of loitering and learning about proper apple ratios. There’s music playing, classic rock and blues –which means somehow Peter won out on the music selection, and a general air of happiness fills the orchard.

Everyone notices them walking up at about the same time, so there’s a brief pause in the work as greetings, hugs, and some scent marking on Derek and Stiles’ part, exchanged.

Then she and Stiles are added to the picking crew and she gladly lets the atmosphere dictate her mood. It's just generally been a good month overall, and it feels nice to not have to worry about anything supernatural besides each other and work on strengthening the pack.

Shortly after the lunch break ends she, Stiles, Scott and Kira switch roles and Derek starts teaching them how to prune, with the idea that the more people who know the better. Lydia picks up quick enough that Derek sends her off on her own, the whole orchard's an acre so there's a _lot_ of trees to get to, but Stiles is playing at not understanding; a laughably poor excuse to hang around each other and try and make out when no one's watching

As she prunes, Lydia finds herself not exactly hiding the fact that every time Peter’s using the press she looks over and admires the way his arms bulge and strain as he works to get every drop out of the apples he can, it’s a sight to behold and she sees no problem in watching, especially since no one seems to notice.

But she mostly focuses on pruning, and occasionally joining in when people start singing, purposefully mangling the lyrics because they all know it annoys Peter –even Derek joins in, a nice rich tenor that almost shocks Stiles out of the tree they're in.

By the time evening falls they've got gallons upon gallons of cider, the ones in plastic jugs are destined to home with all of them, or are to be sold at upcoming farmer's market. The ones in the glass growlers get loaded up in the back of Derek's SUV and get to sit in the loft for a few months to make scrumpy. According to Peter that'll be ready come December and January, just in time for Christmas and the Wolf Moon.

Once at home Lydia puts all but one gallon away, though how she and her mom are going to drink six gallons of apple cider is beyond Lydia, giving the one she left out a good shake she opens it and pours out a glass. After taking her first sip she can't help but smile.

It tastes of new beginnings and summer, which Lydia will happily take as a sign for the better.


	7. Hunter's Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This full Moon is often referred to as the Full Hunter’s Moon, Blood Moon, or Sanguine Moon. Many moons ago, Native Americans named this bright moon for obvious reasons. The leaves are falling from trees, the deer are fattened, and it’s time to begin storing up meat for the long winter ahead. Because the fields were traditionally reaped in late September or early October, hunters could easily see fox and other animals that come out to glean from the fallen grains. Probably because of the threat of winter looming close, the Hunter’s Moon is generally accorded with special honor, historically serving as an important feast day in both Western Europe and among many Native American tribes." - [Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

The moon hasn’t even broken the treeline yet but Derek can still feel it bubbling in her veins, an effervescent call to go deeper into the woods where there’s prey a-plenty. He can feel Peter next to him practically vibrating with untapped energy. It brings Derek back to times before the fire.

The crackle of branches draws him from those thoughts before he can sink too deeply into them. Soon Scott, Liam, Isaac, and Malia have joined them; all looking a little harried.

“What’s going on?” Derek blinks at the question, he’d thought Scott would know. . .but he clicks back the months and realizes last October they were dealing with the tail end of the Alphas and then the Nogitsune. No wonder Scott’s lost.

Peter gives a toothy smile. “It’s a hunter’s moon Scott. The savage month. But don’t worry we’ll save the human sacrifice until after you and your pack are gone.”

Derek doesn’t even have to look to reach over and shove Peter, getting a playful snap of teeth in response.

Scott’s expression is half deer-in-the-headlights half jump Peter. “What?” And that’s all indignant teenage squawk

He rolls his eyes. “He’s joking Scott there’s no human sacrifice.” Though the fact that his uncle is being teasing is refreshing and the sort of hopeful Derek's mostly talked himself out of. “But we do hunt. Take down a deer or two, maybe some rabbits. It's all about tapping into the baser wolf instincts.”

At his words Malia start's bouncing. “When do we start? I could never take down a deer on my own before. I call dibs on the kidneys if we catch one.”

While Isaac looks as unaffected as ever, Scott and Liam look a little green –though Derek's going to chalk it up to the fact they've never had fresh kidneys.

“You can't call dibs dear, you're just going to have to be fast enough.” As Peter talks his voice grows distorted, either the moon's calling out the shift or Peter's brought it up himself; considering his uncle he's going to consider it the latter.

Liam moves a little closer to Scott. “So what, all we do it run and try to hunt things?”

Derek shrugs. “Does there need to be anything else? Though it's also a good way for the Alpha to measure the strengths and weaknesses of their pack.” The moon prickles at the back of his neck, encouraging him to give into his own shift. And while there's a part of him that wants to do a full shift he only goes to Beta form. He lets himself smile, even if it might be a little frightening. “Come on, let's run.”

It feels so _good_ to just not worry about anything and run. A mere heartbeat after he starts Malia is at his side, nearly outpacing him. He snaps his teeth at her, but she just gives a cheeky smile and forges ahead and he tries to push himself faster.

Behind him he can hear Peter and Isaac, and behind them Scott and Liam. The moon finally breaks the treeline and in welcome Derek throws his head back and howls. The others join in and it fills him with joy.

And at the moment it's not such a sad thought to realize life goes on.


	8. Frosty Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This was the time to set beaver traps before the swamps froze, to ensure a supply of warm winter furs. Another interpretation suggests that the name Full Beaver Moon comes from the fact that the beavers are now actively preparing for winter. It is sometimes also referred to as the Frosty Moon." - [Farmer's Alminac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . .So obviously I went with Frosty Moon instead of Beaver Moon; because honestly I just couldn't think of a way to tie in beavers (unless of course someone happened to be cheering for the football team -and given the obsession with lacrosse on the show that didn't seem likely)

Winter is Kira's favorite season. The way everything gets cold and frosty? She loves it. Of course northern California winters aren't New York winters, so there's a bit more rain than she would like and not a whole lot of snow.

But there's still frost, crunchy crackly frost. She curls up in the window seat and stares out at the frosty world, it's quiet, calming, relaxing; Scott, for all his eagerness can't really stay still long, and she's noticed that Isaac doesn't really like long silences. But she's more than happy to have this just be a 'her' thing; those are important she knows, to have things only you do in a relationship.

Of course this year, the hum of electricity is a new addition, but she's grown so used to it that it's basically white noise, something she can easily ignore. In the same vein she can also hear her parents moving around: her mom's bio-electricity is strong and crackles, dad's is quieter but steady and even. So she can tell it's her mom coming towards her.

There's a knock on the door, but mom doesn't wait before coming in, a beautifully set tea tray balanced perfectly in one hand. “Mind if I join you?”

Kira shakes her head, this used to be a tradition of theirs: sitting outside in their apartment's tiny balcony going through the meditative movements of the tea ceremony together while they watched the snow fall. There isn't any snow, but the world outside is just as calm and still as a snowy New York morning so it'll do.

She shuffles over so mom can sit on the bench too, though they have to arrange themselves so the tray can be balanced on their knees. They don't even need to speak as they fall into the old rhythm: mom adds the matcha to their bowls, Kira pours in a little water in each, then mom whisks –frothy for Kira not frothy for mom, then Kira adds more water. It's not, obviously, a full fledged ceremony –though they do one every New Years Kira has to dress up and everything– but it's enough of one that mom calls it that.

Reaching out she takes a monaka from the sweets plate, leaving the yokan for mom, and nibbles. It's actually kind of nice to just be able to sit like this and not worry about things like whether or not mom will change her mind about them moving again, or school, or things that might be trying to kill them –which at the moment is zero. It lets her focus and just be for a while.

Finishing off her sweet she picks up the bowl, brings it up to her face, closes her eyes, and just breathes. She had forgotten just how good this could be.

“Kira,” opening her eyes she looks at her mom, who tilts her head slightly towards the window.

She turns her head and gapes. 

Snow. 


	9. Cold Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "During this month the winter cold fastens its grip, and nights are at their longest and darkest. It is also sometimes called the Moon before Yule. The term Long Night Moon is a doubly appropriate name because the midwinter night is indeed long, and because the Moon is above the horizon for a long time. The midwinter full Moon has a high trajectory across the sky because it is opposite a low Sun." - [Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't the full chapter I had originally intended, but that chapter was lost when my hard drive decided it didn't like me anymore. So while that chapter was longer I find myself liking this one a bit more since it's more focused than the other one (also I've realized I was also trying to write my Wolf Moon idea in Cold Moon...)

Malia's always cold. It's become a fact of her life and one she hates with a blinding passion she didn't even know she had.

At least now in winter no one looks at her strange for piling on layers of clothes: long-johns under pants, long sleeved shirt under t-shirt under sweater under coat, hats and scarves and gloves and earmuffs. All in an effort to gain just that extra degree of warmth.

One morning out of boredom, she has school but she also knows Mr. Tate won't force her to go if he can't find her, she goes up into the attic and starts poking around, her nose twitching at all the dust. She opens a large not-a-dresser-but-she-doesn't-know-the-name-for-it-when-it-just-has-the-two-large-doors and starts sneezing so much her eyes water.

When she finally recovers enough to see she finds herself gaping at the contents.

_Fur_. Coats and coats of the stuff. 

Her hands are shaking slightly as she reaches out to touch the nearest coat. She has no idea what sort of animal the pelt comes from, she'd always been more concerned with ripping  _through_ the pelt to get at the meat than noticing anything about it, but it's infinitely soft and she buries her hands in it.

Not stopping to think about it she rips the coat from it's hanger and tosses it onto the floor, quickly doing the same to all the other coats.

That done she falls upon them and just rolls around. Wrapping herself in all of them and taking in their slightly musty scents. They start out slightly chilly, but quickly heat up and it's even better than sex.

Bundled tightly up in about three of them she gives a happy sigh and just lays there, surrounded by fur and warmth and. . .she sighs again and closes her eyes. If she died right now she wouldn't even complain, this is the closest she's been to her old self in so long.

After a while she reluctantly gets up, putting on one of the coats she'd wrapped around herself properly. Gathering as many of the others in her hands as she can she carries them into her room.

If she has her way she'll be wearing these every day until May, she doesn't care what looks it might get her; finally she can be  _warm_ again, and no human, or were, or anything is going to take that away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'll see you in a few days with Wolf Moon!


	10. Wolf Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Amid the cold and deep snows of midwinter, the wolf packs howled hungrily outside Indian villages. Thus, the name for January’s full Moon. Sometimes it was also referred to as the Old Moon, or the Moon After Yule. Some called it the Full Snow Moon, but most tribes applied that name to the next Moon." - [Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a little born-wolf headcanon I've had for a while now, and it's kind of fun to actually get at least some of it all out and down.

Despite Christmas having passed a week ago the tree in the loft is still looking as fresh as always; and still covered in lights, and tinsel, and popcorn, and generic ball ornaments –if Scott thinks about that for too long he might get depressed. Though that doesn't stop him from going over to pull Stiles away from snooping at the presents; Derek had assured them that if they wanted to give him presents on Christmas _as_ Christmas presents –part of Scott thought it sucked having your birthday on Christmas– they could, but they wouldn't be getting any from him until the Wolf Moon.

“Ow, ow, Scotty, dude, watch the claws.” Stiles squirms.

He lets go of Stiles abruptly, only to realize he hadn't actually popped his claws, in response he smacked Stiles back. “Not cool Stiles.”

Stiles gives him an unrepentant smile. “Shut up, you know you love me.” Stiles scoots closer, in a way that's as familiar to Scott as, well, anything to do with the two of them really. “Though dude, all of the presents under there are kind of from Peter, to all of us,” Stiles makes gestures that convey 'all of us' means well,  _everyone_. 

Okay, yeah, that's kind of creepy. Scott, though he knows Stiles shares the sentiment, still doesn't really trust Peter; even though Derek and Lydia both assure him that they're watching Peter. Still Scott's not sure he wants to know what Peter got him for 'Christmas'.

“Maybe we could knock over a candle and burn them all,” Scott suggests, though that also feels a little. . .offensive.

Stiles still cracks a grin though, “so much for the high and mighty Alpha. Though really I was kind of thinking of sneaking them all over the balcony railing.”

Scott returns the grin because yeah, it'd be fun to see what sort of splats the presents did; but before he can actually answer, familiar nails yank on his ear. “Oh no you two don't,” Lydia chides, “and if you do I'm sending you to Melissa.” It's scary how well Lydia can threaten them.

Without waiting for a response she strides off towards Mason.

Once they're sure she's not paying them any more attention they getting into a little nudging match. “Come on,” Stiles cajoles. “We can totally do our own right? I mean they're ours and we can totally do whatever we want with them right?”

Scott grins.


	11. Hunger Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Since the heaviest snow usually falls during this month, native tribes of the north and east most often called February’s full Moon the Full Snow Moon. Some tribes also referred to this Moon as the Full Hunger Moon, since harsh weather conditions in their areas made hunting very difficult." - [Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

For Jordan, near constant hunger’s just something he’s had to deal with for as long as he can remember. Going back for seconds, thirds, sometime even fourths; piling his plate high every time. Sometimes he'd even eat enough to feel full. His budget for almost everything that isn't food is shoestring at best; he needs to pinch every penny he can if he wants to at least moderately sate himself with food.

He has memories of his dad getting a fond, exasperated, and vaguely sad smile on his face every time Jordan complained about being hungry. _“Well then, let’s feed that oven of yours_.” He'd say before taking his hand and going into the kitchen to cook up something or other.

Even now after everything he’s found out about himself in the past year his dad’s use of the word ‘oven’ still confuses him. Maybe when they manage to find out what he is he’ll have an explanation; it’s not as if he can ask his dad, who died while he was in Iraq. While his father had left him all sorts of heirlooms and papers, and even a final letter, none of it had touched on his absent mother, or anything about what she might have been; if dad had even known at all. It wasn't as if dad had ever spoken of her in Jordan's presence, so every tiny possible scrap he hoarded like gold.

So all he has is the fact he didn’t die when he was burned alive, and the fact that he’s always hungry –and for all he knows the two have nothing to do with each other though he highly doubts it. He’s also fairly certain if he didn’t have help and support from Lydia, Derek, and Scott he probably would have driven himself up the walls in his need to know _what_ he was.

As it stands though, none of them are closer to figuring anything out about him than when they started, but he has enough patience to at least get him through the rest of the bestiary. Though with that it's Lydia more than anything else that keeps him in a strange sort of check. Her deathly nature somehow keeping his possibly fiery one within the boundary of acceptable.

Good thing to, there have been some situations where he's certain she's the only thing between himself and complete and utter loss of control; something that he knows from plenty of first and second hand experience is never good. Despite her powers though she can't stop him from being eternally hungry.

So he’ll keep ‘feeding his oven’ until he figures out why –or hopefully there's something in his abilities that lets him supplement with something other than food, and at least being around werewolves means he usually gets fewer strange looks for eating as much as he does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . .next month is the last chapter folks! How bizarre is that?


	12. Worm Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As the temperature begins to warm and the ground begins to thaw, earthworm casts appear, heralding the return of the robins. The more northern tribes knew this Moon as the Full Crow Moon, when the cawing of crows signaled the end of winter; or the Full Crust Moon, because the snow cover becomes crusted from thawing by day and freezing at night. The Full Sap Moon, marking the time of tapping maple trees, is another variation. To the settlers, it was also known as the Lenten Moon, and was considered to be the last full Moon of winter." -[Farmer's Almanac](http://farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks, the final full moon.
> 
> TW for some minor, if vivid body horror. (Because what better way to end a story right?)

Peter awakes with a start, the vestiges of the nightmare making his heart pound and his instincts scream at him to do _something_. But he knows full well that he's not a slave to those instincts, and pushes past them.

Once he feels calmer he sits upright, rubbing his hands over his face like it would clear away the cobwebs of the nightmare.

 _Confined, enclosed,_ trapped _. Sinuous and slimy, he can feel the worms on his skin, sliding into his decomposing body._

_He opens his mouth to scream but all that comes out are more worms._

A shudder runs through him. Through his fingers he peers out the window to see the full moon coldly watching over him. Another shudder runs through him, this time from self-deprecating laughter. _Happy fucking birthday_.

Sliding out of bed, he doesn't think he'll be sleeping again any time soon, he pads over to the mouth of the spiral staircase and down it's length.

Derek's bed is empty and still made, so he clearly still hasn't come home yet from whatever activity McCall dragged him to.

Not sure if he's grateful or not for being alone –on the one hand no one will know about the nightmare on the other it'd be nice to have family– he makes his way to the kitchen. Filling up the old battered kettle Derek owned, though why Derek hadn't just bought a _new_ one is beyond Peter, he set it on the stove to boil.

About ten minutes later he sat on the cold metal table, cup of hot tea in his hands, staring out. The light pollution is enough that he can't make out any of the stars, but not matter the amount of light pollution nothing can out-bright the moon.

Sitting there, drinking his tea, he watches her walk her long and lonely path to her own sleep.


End file.
